Buffy and the Stranger
by daviderl
Summary: Buffy saves a stranger from a mugger. And against her better judgement, lets him talk her into telling him about Sunnydale's witches, werewolves, and vampires.


14 Apr 2002  
  
  
  
Buffy and the Stranger  
  
  
  
Buffy dusted herself off, there was twice the dust -- a double slaying.  
  
"Man," she said to the night, "Is this it? The only thing new is two-for- one? Why can't something, or someone, really different come along? This is really boring!"  
  
She sighed. "Might as well go home. What a life!"  
  
  
  
The next day, after seeing that Dawn got off to school on time, Buffy decided to go out for breakfast. Money was still tight, but she needed to do something different. Just any little thing to break the monotony.  
  
When she was just a few blocks from a coffee shop she knew served late breakfast, she heard an unusual noise from a nearby alley.  
  
'Can't be vamps,' she thought. 'Must be cats, or dogs, or bums.'  
  
Just as she passed it, she heard someone say "Please, it's all I have."  
  
Buffy turned around, went back to the alley and cautiously walked toward the voice. Then she heard another voice, "Hand it over! NOW!"  
  
'Mugger.' She thought. 'Well, something different.'  
  
As she got closer, she saw two men, one was holding a knife, and the other was backed up against a wall.  
  
"I don't think you're playing very nice." She said to the one with the knife.  
  
Both men looked at her.  
  
"Call the cops!" The one against the wall yelled out.  
  
The other one pointed the knife at Buffy and said, "If you know what's good for you, you'll just walk away."  
  
Buffy smiled patronizingly. "You know, I think that's my main problem, I never seem to know what's good for me. I try. I mean, I REALLY try," She continued as she walked closer to them. "But for some reason, I always get in trouble."  
  
"Lady!" The second man exclaimed. "What are you doing? Go get the cops!"  
  
The man with the knife turned back to his victim and said harshly, "Shut up!"  
  
"I would, get the cops," Buffy said, "But the cops here in Sunnydale really aren't that great. They're kind of inept, in an incompetent kind of way."  
  
As Buffy got within a few feet of them, the mugger turned the knife on Buffy again. As he did, the man against the wall suddenly pushed his assailant away. The mugger, surprised and unable to keep his balance, fell to the pavement, and the knife flew out of his hands.  
  
Realizing he no longer had the advantage, he scrambled to his feet and ran out of the alley.  
  
"You okay?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Yeah. I'm fine, you came along just at the right time. But I have to say, you are either extremely brave, or extremely stupid. You could've been seriously hurt."  
  
Buffy smiled, "Well, I've been told that before. Still don't know which I am though, maybe both."  
  
Buffy turned to leave the alley and the man followed after her.  
  
"Look," he said. "I don't have much, but I feel like I should give you something -- some kind of reward."  
  
"You don't have to. I really didn't do anything."  
  
"Just saved me from losing everything I have, that's all. I only got here last week," He said.  
  
"You're not from Sunnydale, then?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Well, sorry you had such a bad experience after such a short time here. Just try to be more careful in the future. Sunnydale can be -- well, just be careful."  
  
"Look, won't you let me give you something? I don't have a lot of money . . . ."  
  
"I told you, I don't want anything."  
  
"Then let me buy you a cup of coffee, or a soda, or something."  
  
"Well, I was on my way to breakfast. . . ."  
  
"Perfect! At least let me do that much."  
  
Despite herself, Buffy agreed to let him buy her breakfast; he seemed nice enough, and was kind of cute.  
  
"I'm Roger, Roger Mills. And you are?"  
  
"Buffy Summers. Nice to meet you." They shook hands.  
  
"You lived here all your life?" He asked.  
  
"No, we move here from L.A. a few years ago."  
  
"You and your husband?"  
  
"Me and my mom."  
  
They entered the coffee shop, found a booth, and ordered breakfast.  
  
"So, Mr. Roger Mills, what are you doing in Sunnydale?"  
  
"Actually, I'm kind of an investigator."  
  
A red flag popped up in Buffy's mind.  
  
"What kind of investigating?" She asked, hoping she wouldn't dislike his answer.  
  
"Oh, things, unusual things."  
  
"Such as?"  
  
Roger looked to his left and right, acting very mysterious.  
  
"What would you say if I said 'witch' ?"  
  
"Wizard of Oz? Halloween?"  
  
Roger smiled. "That's pretty much the kind of reaction most people have. Everybody thinks of witches as the stuff of movies and TV."  
  
"They're not?" Buffy asked innocently.  
  
Lowering his voice just a shade, Roger answered, "No, not at all."  
  
Buffy let disbelief show on her face. "Come on, you're trying to tell me there really is such a thing as witches?"  
  
"Yes! Look, before coming to Sunnydale, I was in San Francisco. I had heard there were witches, REAL witches there. In particular, I had heard stories about three sisters, supposedly the most powerful witches of all, called the Charmed Ones. Ever hear of them?"  
  
Buffy shook her head. "Did you find them?"  
  
Before Roger could answer, the waitress brought their breakfast. He waited until she left before he continued.  
  
"No, I never did. But there was so much evidence. Admittedly, it was mostly circumstantial, but there were so many little things -- unexplained happenings, and lives being 'unnaturally' saved, and reports of -- I don't know, just odd occurrences. Don't you see, they just have to exist!"  
  
"But you gave up and came to Sunnydale."  
  
"After six months of searching. I just wasn't getting anywhere."  
  
"So why Sunnydale?"  
  
"I was going to come here first. I'd been hearing about all the weird things happening here. But at the time I was really into witches. But since that didn't pan out, I decided to come here to see what all the fuss was about."  
  
"Find anything?"  
  
"I did find one thing. Ever hear of a store called The Magic Box?"  
  
"The Magic what?"  
  
"The Magic Box. It's not far from here. I was in there a couple of times."  
  
"And witches are there?"  
  
"I don't know about any witches, but the woman who runs the place sure is weird. At first I just thought it was one of those places that sells bogus good luck charms, and candles, and glass 'crystal' balls, and incense, you know -- the kind of junk you can get anywhere."  
  
"And it isn't?"  
  
"No! The more I looked, the more I started to find things -- really powerful herbs, and potions, and mystic crystals, and spell books -- the kinds of things only a REAL witch would know what to do with."  
  
"But no witches?"  
  
"No. I kept watching to see who was buying what, but that was a bust, too."  
  
"So I guess you'll be leaving, soon?"  
  
"No, I think I'm going to be here a while longer."  
  
"But you said there weren't any witches."  
  
"No, I said I didn't find any. It's not the same thing."  
  
"You said didn't find any in San Francisco, either."  
  
"Ah! But Sunnydale is different. What if I said 'vampire'?"  
  
The red flag that had been slowly lowering was back up.  
  
"Dracula?"  
  
Roger shook his head. "See, you're doing it again. Okay - 'werewolf '."  
  
"Not 'Lon Chaney'?"  
  
He smiled. "You're learning."  
  
"So you're saying that not only are there witches in Sunnydale, but also vampires and werewolves?"  
  
"And God knows what else."  
  
"So where are they?"  
  
"Just because you don't see them doesn't mean they aren't here. You just haven't been in the right place at the right time. And take my word for it, you don't want to be."  
  
Buffy pushed her plate to one side and finished her soda. "Well, all this has been kind of interesting, but I have to go. Thank you for the breakfast, and for the -- information."  
  
"You really have to go?"  
  
" 'Fraid I do."  
  
"Do you think I could see you again? Maybe for dinner?"  
  
"I don't think so. I couldn't leave my sister home alone."  
  
"I thought you said just you and your mother moved here."  
  
"We did. Dawn ... came later."  
  
"So your mother's not here?"  
  
"No. She, uh, died."  
  
"Oh, Jeez, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to . . . ."  
  
"That's okay. You didn't know. Look, I really do have to go."  
  
"Yeah, sure. Maybe I'll see you around."  
  
Buffy smiled noncommittedly and left.  
  
As he watched her leave, Roger said to himself. "You haven't seen the last of me Miss Buffy Summers. No sir, not by a long shot."  
  
  
  
"So, what kind of day did you have?" Willow asked. "Any daytime slayage?"  
  
"No. Stopped a mugging, though."  
  
"Really? A real honest-to-goodness mugging? That doesn't happen very often. Kicked some serious bad guy booty, huh?"  
  
"No, not really, I distracted him, Roger pushed him down, and he ran off."  
  
"Roger? So you guys are on first name basis already? What's he like? Any sparks?"  
  
Buffy gave a half laugh. "No. Nothing like that. He did buy me breakfast."  
  
"Do you like him?"  
  
"He's okay, kinda cute. But he could be trouble."  
  
"Trouble like -- Uh oh, I'm falling too hard, too fast. Or like -- Hey! You better watch those hands, Mister!"  
  
"Neither. Trouble like he's investigating Sunnydale, Home of the Strange."  
  
"What kind of investigating?"  
  
"He told me he thinks there are witches and werewolves and vampires here. He even thinks the magic shop has real witchy stuff."  
  
"Oh, wow. Do you think he knows anything, you know, that he shouldn't?"  
  
"No. From what he said I don't think so, not yet anyway. But he's only been here a week."  
  
"Well, all he has to do is look in the right place at the right time."  
  
"You're right. Sooner or later he's going to start wandering around at night. I just hope he doesn't find what he's looking for."  
  
For a few moments neither spoke, then Buffy asked, "Willow, have you ever heard of the Charmed Ones?"  
  
Willow's whole face lit up.  
  
"Sure! Who hasn't? They're like the Super Stars of the Wiccan. I'd sure love to meet them someday! Why?"  
  
"Roger told me before he came to Sunnydale he spent six months in San Francisco looking for them."  
  
"He didn't find them, did he?" Willow said, she knew the answer.  
  
"No. I guess they're like Secret-Identity Witches."  
  
"Yeah, they have to be. They do good stuff -- fight demons and all, but just like the Slayer, it wouldn't be good if everybody knew who they were."  
  
Buffy nodded, how well she understood.  
  
"Going patrolling?" Willow asked, interrupting Buffy's thoughts.  
  
"For a little while. I guess I need to make sure there isn't anything for Roger to find. Or should I say, anything to find him? I ought to be in around midnight. You'll keep an eye on Dawn?"  
  
"Of course. I think she's not so mad at me anymore. She almost smiled at me yesterday."  
  
Buffy smiled, "That's good. With teenagers, sometimes these things take a little longer."  
  
  
  
Buffy started as usual at one of the many cemeteries, walking through each one as she came to it. It was her lucky night - no vampires. Not even Spike.  
  
She walked through the park, through a playground, past the railroad yard, along the waterfront, and finally back through the center of town. Just as she was thinking about heading back home, she heard a familiar voice behind her.  
  
"Buffy!"  
  
"Hello, Roger." Buffy said without turning around. She let him walk around her. "Out for a late night stroll?"  
  
"I was just going to ask you the same thing. Isn't it kind of dangerous, a girl out here all by herself, so late at night?"  
  
"But I'm not alone. You're here." She replied.  
  
"Now I am. Surely you haven't been out here all this time alone."  
  
"Don't call me 'Shirley'." Buffy tried to joke, but it fell on deaf ears.  
  
"I thought I said 'Buffy.' I did, didn't I?"  
  
"You did. My mistake. I was just going home. You, too?"  
  
"I might as well. I thought I might find something if I poked around at night, but Sunnydale's really dead after dark."  
  
'You don't know the half of it.' Buffy thought. Then she said, "How about if I walk you home, it's probably right on my way."  
  
"How do you know that?" He asked, puzzled.  
  
"Oh, everywhere in Sunnydale is pretty much on the way home."  
  
"Well ... all right. It'll give us a chance to talk, to get to know each other better."  
  
'Great!' Buffy thought. 'Just what I need, more questions.'  
  
"I thought you said you couldn't leave your sister alone. Dawn, was it?"  
  
"It is. A friend said she'd stay with her for a while."  
  
"So why ARE you out so late? A last minute hot date?"  
  
"That's me - late on a date."  
  
"You know, if you don't want to answer, all you have to do is say so."  
  
"Then, I'd rather not say. I'm kind of a private person. You understand."  
  
"Not really. But that's okay. I don't suppose that coffee shop is open now, is it? I thought maybe we might stop in."  
  
"I think it closes about ten or eleven on week nights. Not much business until the weekend. But thanks for asking."  
  
They walked in silence for a couple of blocks.  
  
"So what do you do?" Roger asked.  
  
"Do? What do you mean?"  
  
"Do you have a job, or go to school, or what?"  
  
"I used to go to UCS, but I quit when my mom . . . . Well, she died suddenly, and I had to drop out to take care of Dawn. I work a few nights at the Doublemeat Palace. But that's just until I can find something better!"  
  
"Speaking of school, I went by the high school. Wow! Talk about your bad vibes! I tried asking around, but it's like nobody wants to talk about it."  
  
"Yeah, it was bad. The mayor . . . ."  
  
"So you were there when it burned down?"  
  
"Yeah, a lot of us were -- the Seniors. It was supposed to be our graduation. But there was this eclipse, and then the mayor sort of went crazy, and things kind of got out of hand. I can understand why no one wants to talk about it, it wasn't very pleasant."  
  
There was more silence.  
  
Then without warning, Roger asked, "What's the Hellmouth?"  
  
"The what?"  
  
"Don't play dumb with me, Buffy. I've talked to dozens of people since I've been here. And whenever the subject of death, or disappearances, or any number of unusual circumstances comes up, your name is always in there somewhere. You know more than you're letting on, a lot more. Maybe your innocence act can fool some people, maybe even a lot of people, but it doesn't fool me."  
  
Buffy stopped walking and turned toward Roger, her arms folded over her chest, a defensive look on her face.  
  
"Is that right? Everybody is talking about good old, Bad Buffy? Well, let me tell you something, I don't care. People can talk all they want. And you know what else? I don't have to talk to you. In fact, I don't have to listen to you, and I don't even have to be here."  
  
Buffy turned back the way they had been coming, and stalked off, going home.  
  
Roger hurried after her. When he caught up to her, he grabbed her arm to turn her around to look at him, but she kept walking. He couldn't believe she was so strong that he couldn't turn her. So he got around in front of her, making her stop.  
  
She looked up at him, an angry look on her face, and said, "Don't ever grab me again, you WON'T like it!"  
  
"So why won't you talk to me?" He pleaded.  
  
"Why should I? What's in it for me?"  
  
"I don't know. Are you hiding something?"  
  
"We all have our secrets. I bet even you have things you'd rather nobody found out about."  
  
"Sure there is. But this is different. Everything about this place is different. I just want to know what's going on."  
  
"And if you did discover all our dirty little secrets, then what? They'd be splattered all over the front pages of those tabloid rags they sell in the supermarket?"  
  
"No. I don't know. I'm not sure what I would do. I guess it would depend on what I found."  
  
"And what if you discovered things so horrible, so unimaginably terrifying that it would cause total panic and chaos? Then would you be satisfied?"  
  
Roger looked deep into Buffy's eyes, trying to see if she was really serious, or just blowing smoke, trying to see just how much b.s. she could feed him. He decided he couldn't tell.  
  
"So tell me something, anything."  
  
Buffy didn't answer right away, she was thinking. He wasn't going to just go away, she knew that. And if he kept up poking around he was probably going to find what he was looking for, even if it killed him.  
  
"Well?" He said impatiently. "Do we talk?"  
  
Buffy took a deep breath, she knew she'd have to tell him -- something. Maybe if she only hit the highlights he'd go away happy.  
  
"All right." She finally said. "I'll tell you some things, but no names, and no questions. You take what I say a face value, and then you go away -- away from Sunnydale, and away from me. Agreed?"  
  
"Those are pretty harsh terms."  
  
"You want answers, that's the only way you're going to get them."  
  
"Okay, you talk and I'll listen."  
  
By this time they were at the edge of the park, so they sat down on a bench under a street light.  
  
After a minute or two, Buffy spoke.  
  
"You were right about witches, and the magic shop."  
  
"Is the woman who runs it a witch?"  
  
"I thought I said no questions."  
  
"Just for clarification, that's all."  
  
"No, Anya isn't a witch."  
  
"So you know her, huh? You're sure?"  
  
"I'm sure."  
  
"Do you personally know any witches?"  
  
Buffy started not to answer, then said. "Maybe. I was talking to -- someone, about the Charmed Ones. She said they really are there, in San Francisco. After we're finished here maybe you ought to go back and try to find them again."  
  
"I might do that."  
  
Buffy continued. "And you were right about werewolves. We had two of them here one time."  
  
"But they're gone now?"  
  
Buffy looked at him sharply, but answered. "Yeah. One of them killed the other one, and then he left."  
  
"You're sure it's gone?"  
  
"Yes, I'm sure. If you keep doubting what I say, why am I even bothering to talk to you?"  
  
"You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just so used to hearing so much crap, I just got into the habit of questioning everything I hear."  
  
Buffy took another deep breath.  
  
"And you were right about vampires. We do have more than our share of them here."  
  
"I know I promised no more questions, but -- have you actually seen any?"  
  
"Oh, yeah."  
  
"So where can I go to see one?"  
  
"Trust me, you DON'T want to see any vampires!"  
  
"And why is that?"  
  
"Because they have this nasty little habit of trying to kill you."  
  
"But if you've seen them, why didn't they try to kill YOU?"  
  
"They've tried, I guess I've just been lucky. But there are too many in Sunnydale who weren't so lucky."  
  
Roger sat silent, thinking over what he had heard. Then he said, "You haven't said anything about the Hellmouth."  
  
Buffy's look wasn't a pleasant one.  
  
"It wasn't a question." He said quickly.  
  
Buffy was trying to decide whether or not to go into the whole Hellmouth thing when suddenly they were attacked from behind. Both she and Roger were sent sprawling to the grass. When she looked up she saw not one, but two vampires.  
  
'Oh, GREAT!' She thought, 'Just what I need!'  
  
Roger had gotten to his feet and yelled to Buffy, "RUN! I'll hold them off!"  
  
'Sure you will.' She thought.  
  
One of the vampires attacked Buffy, who flipped him over her shoulder.  
  
As he tried to fight off his attacker, Roger yelled again for Buffy to run. Then he was thrown into a tree. He hit his head and had the wind knocked out of him. As he fell, he saw Buffy charge his attacker.  
  
'Is she that crazy?' He thought.  
  
From the ground, through a haze, he saw Buffy grab the "mugger" and throw him away from him. As he watched, confused and amazed, he saw Buffy throwing lefts and rights at one of them, then using round-house kicks to the other.  
  
He watched as she was hit, and kicked, but she always jumped back up as if nothing had happened.  
  
She was thrown over the park bench, but sprang back up and leapt five or six feet though the air to kick both "muggers" in the face at the same time.  
  
Then from somewhere, it looked like out of her sleeve, she produced some kind of weapon, something that resembled a sharp stick.  
  
And in total disbelief, he watched as she stabbed both of them in the chest, and within seconds both "muggers" turned to dust.  
  
Buffy walked over to Roger while she slid the stake back into her left sleeve.  
  
"You okay?" She asked as she knelt down to him. "Don't see any blood. You'll live."  
  
As she pulled him to his feet, Roger tried to find words.  
  
"What? ... How? ... Who?" He just couldn't form a sentence.  
  
"Those were vampires. Remember the ones you wanted to see? Now you know why I told you that you DIDN'T want to see them."  
  
"But ... how, I mean what happened? You ... what did you do? How . . . ."  
  
Buffy decide she might as well tell him -- almost -- everything.  
  
"I'm the Slayer."  
  
Roger looked at her oddly. "The what?"  
  
"The Slayer. You know, the Vampire Slayer?"  
  
He still didn't seem to know what she was talking about.  
  
"The SLAYER! The Chosen One? . . . to fight the forces of darkness, yadda yadda?"  
  
"That's just a fable, there's no such thing as a Slayer."  
  
Buffy moved her hand in a half circle around her.  
  
"Then what just happened here? They just turned into dust on their own?"  
  
"I - I don't know. But how can you be a Slayer? You're - you're so tiny, so weak looking."  
  
"Then you tell me. What happened?"  
  
Roger was at a loss. Buffy waited patiently for him to say something, to come up with a reasonable explanation.  
  
Finally, he said, "If you're really the Slayer, then there's supposed to be a Watcher."  
  
"Not any more. I outgrew him, and he went home, back to England." She answered sadly.  
  
"So you really are the Slayer?"  
  
"In the flesh."  
  
"Amazing. I knew there was something special about Sunnydale. But I had no idea . . . ."  
  
"Yeah, well, what can I say?  
  
"You haven't said anything about the Hellmouth."  
  
"Giles, he was my Watcher, described Sunnydale as sitting right on 'the convergence of mystical forces.' All energies from the Hell dimensions are focused right here - the Mouths of Hell, or, if you will, The Hellmouth."  
  
"Then I guess you've seen a lot of -- what? Zombies?"  
  
"Demons. A lot of demons. And vampires. Too many of all of them to suit me, but that's why I'm in Sunnydale and not Sunnybrook Farm."  
  
"You know, I'm not feeling all that great. Think you could walk me home?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
Half way to Roger's motel he collapsed. Luckily, one of Sunnydale's "finest" was parked nearby and he took Roger and Buffy to the emergency room.  
  
  
  
"So what did you tell them?" Dawn asked.  
  
"That we were jumped by muggers and he was thrown against a tree."  
  
"Didn't they want to know what you two were doing in the park?" Willow asked.  
  
"Yeah. I told them were just taking a romantic stroll; wanted to be alone. I guess they bought it."  
  
"What about the mysterious 'muggers'?"  
  
"I told them I was too scared to really see what they looked like. Plus it was dark. I think they understood."  
  
"It's too bad he died." Dawn said.  
  
"I know. I feel really terrible! I mean, he looked okay to me. But they said when he hit his head it ruptured a vessel in his brain."  
  
"Are you sure he was a tabloid reporter?" Willow asked.  
  
"I'm sure. When the cops went though his wallet looking for a phone number of someone to call, his I.D. card was in there."  
  
"So he really was going to expose Sunnydale's secrets?"  
  
"Looks like it. And here I was, just blabbing my heart out."  
  
"You didn't know who he was."  
  
"But I should have known better. I just didn't think."  
  
"Well, I guess it's good he died." Willow said. "Oh! I didn't mean it like that! I mean it's terrible he's dead, just it's good he can't turn in his story."  
  
"I know what you meant. I don't know what we'd've done if he had lived. I told him almost everything."  
  
"Is anyone coming to claim his body?" Dawn asked.  
  
"Yep." Buffy said. "His boss, the Head Investigator."  
  
Willow made a face, "Oh, that doesn't sound so good."  
  
"Nope." Buffy agreed. "Not good at all." 


End file.
